Repair Me
by ThinkingSpeck
Summary: [ONESHOT] After the murder of James and Lily Potter, Remus Lupin runs away to the Muggle world. There he finds solace from an unexpected source.


**A/N:** I wrote this a while ago, complete with some actual background research, but I was planning to develop it more before posting. Changed my mind about that - it is pretty terse, almost more like a Tumblr fanfic than a typical story here on FFN, but I think it works as is. I think the concept originally came from my own head, quite some years ago, but I have since discovered that arekay's "Harry Potter and the Power of Paranoia" already used it.

 **Repair Me**

* * *

Remus Lupin cried.

For the first time since his first night at Hogwarts, he cried. For innocence lost. For love betrayed. For his friends, his pack, suddenly torn from him.

James, dead. Lily, dead. Peter, dead.

Sirius, his brother in all but blood, now a murdering traitor.

And he, Remus, had been completely powerless. Hadn't even known what was happening, until the news broke and everyone knew. Everyone celebrating the ruin of his life.

He turned suddenly, Apparating to the most remote place he could remember. Then he ran.

* * *

Even werewolf endurance has its limits; eventually, Remus had to stop.

It was light again by now, and he could see his surroundings. A Muggle neighbourhood, completely unfamiliar to him - he had no idea where he was, and no particular desire to know. He ate at a nearby cafeteria, unable to care about preserving what little money he had on him.

Feeling somewhat better, he emerged into the weak winter sunlight and set off down the street. Seeing a jumble sale and having nothing better to do, he wandered over.

Tat, of course. Everywhere tat. But to his frank astonishment, in amongst the junk he found a selection of ancient furniture. A table here, chairs here and there - that was a complete dining setting, scattered through the jumble! He looked more closely, and underneath the accumulated damage and dirt he saw truly well-crafted furniture. Mentally thanking his grandfather for teaching him to recognise craftsmanship, Remus looked around for the seller.

A middle-aged lady caught his eye.  
"Ah, the table and chairs. Beautiful quality, innit? It's all a bit dinged up, o' course, but otherwise it wouldn't be here, would it?"

Remus smiled shyly, and paused a moment before replying.  
"Quite. It must have been well-built to begin with, or it wouldn't have survived at all."

She shot him a faintly suspicious look, and he smiled disarmingly.  
"How much are you asking for them?"

She weighed him with a glance.  
"Thirty quid."

He winced.  
"Ah. Can't do it, sorry love. Could do you twenty?"

Another long pause, and then she shrugged. After all, no one else seemed interested in the set.  
"Twenty quid. Done."

He paid her, then ducked his head apologetically.  
"I don't actually have a way to move it right now, sorry. Can I pick it up later today?"

"Of course! I'll just put notes on them, so we don't accidentally sell them to someone else."

He smiled, looking truly happy for the first time in far longer than she would have believed.  
"Thank you."

* * *

Two hours later, Remus Lupin was a changed man. Hair neat, face freshly-shaved, he walked with an air of confident purpose that absolutely no one in the Wizarding world would ever have expected. His entire Wizarding life, except of course for his wand, was a Shrunken bundle in his pocket. He stepped forward and knocked on a cheap wooden door. It opened a crack, and a voice issued forth.

"You come about the shop?"

"Yes."

The door opened further, revealing a thin man dominated by a luxuriant moustache. He peered intently at Remus.  
"What do you want it for?"

Remus smiled half-apologetically, playing his accustomed role.  
"As a workshop, mostly. There's a flat above?"

"Aye. When would you be wanting it?"

"I'll take it today, if that's alright with you."

"No problem with the price, then?"

"No, that's fine. Thanks. Here's my bond, and the first month."

Eyebrows high, the moustached man accepted the money.

Half an hour later, Remus had a new home. He smiled.

* * *

Remus was finally examining his find properly, grateful for his grandfather's lessons. Bryn Howell, a talented carpenter, had taught his only grandchild a great deal about quality furniture.

The tabletop was a single piece. Promising. Solid English oak, much darkened by age. Appalling condition, of course - any varnish long gone, surface scratched and gouged to hell, but still obviously solid and ancient. Somewhat swollen and warped with water in parts, but not too badly. Simple chunky legs, so well-made that they had survived intact.

The chairs were likewise sturdily built - no spindlework this. Elegantly understated curves, but stout oak without ornament. And - wonder of wonders - original leather upholstery! Cracked and perished and hardly even there in places, but still! He smiled.

A few more hours, a variety of skilful magic guided by Muggle expertise, and the dining set was near mint condition for the first time in centuries.

* * *

The antiques dealer arrived early the following morning, caught somewhere between weary cynicism and giddy excitement. This Lupin fellow's claim was absurd, of course, but still quite different from any of the usual scams - if nothing else it'd be a new type of fake.

Remus opened the door, smiling peaceably.  
"William? I'm John - pleased to meet you in the flesh."

William was a heavyset man, but the hand that he extended was surprisingly delicate. He nodded, exchanged pleasantries, and followed John Lupin into the workshop.

And there, before his eyes, was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He approached in awe, hands carefully behind his back.  
"How?" he demanded.

Lupin laughed.  
"Sorry, you'll have to give me a bit more than that. What do you want to know?"

"To begin with, where by all that's holy did you get this?"

"Jumble sale just up the road, few days ago. Of course, the condition was somewhat less... admirable then."

William took a half-step forward, then checked himself with obvious effort.  
"May I?"

"Go ahead. It's not fragile."

That was all he needed, and he went to work. All the things that Lupin himself had looked for, of course, but then William found the maker's mark. He swore softly, reverently.  
"John, this is incredible. I mean, I have seen one before. Once. I did know there was at least one other example extant. But how? How is it possible for such an old piece to be in this condition?"

Lupin, John, allowed himself a trace of smugness.  
"I will admit, I was uncommonly lucky to find this. I am very good at restoration, though."

William nodded slowly.  
"Clearly."

They chatted then, building the beginnings of an enduring partnership, and eventually William bought the set for an even five thousand pounds. They both knew that was scarcely half its true value, of course, but there was still a great deal of work to do in provenancing and the like before it could reach the open market.

More importantly, John Lupin had just established himself as Britain's best furniture restorer.


End file.
